As the Bee Panteth for the Honey

... or Nectar?

(What exactly did I learn in Animal Behaviors class?)

Dear Manjournal,

I taught dad how to play the saxophone. He blasted it all night long. The next morning he was playing it again, and this time he played the First Noel by ear. It was quite good. We all applauded. It's easier to teach an open heart. It's easier to learn with an open heart... (I probably shouldn't mention that he has perfect pitch). Christmas season was good this year.

"I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions. It's like saying on Thursday, 'I'm gonna go to the gym on Monday.' Why not go on Friday?" - brother M

Well you would believe in New Year's Resolutions if you were in need of one, and when people comment about you "my, my, how you've changed" you can just credit your resolution. "I know."

The only question to ask tonight is, "What is my New Year's Excuse?" Then maybe I'll be ready to lift them all up in the mountains this week, and I'll let Him know that I give it up all to Him. He's the only one in the business of changing hearts. I ain't messin widat. "If it weren't for you meddling kids, you would have turned the world upside down by now."

Change like a butterfly. Drink like a bee.

Very well, let's go. Good night.

Obadiah

hello, my name is wookie.

"Look!"

I pointed excitedly towards the playground as soon as I spotted a row of tricycles parked near the fence. Dad led noon and me away into the main office of Monte Vista Elementary School where we waited in big uncomfortable chairs as he filled out some forms and chatted, in sign languish (sign language + sporadic grunts in English) with Vera the secretary. After many more bla blas and blur blurs I found myself standing in front of about ten intensely curious 5 year olds, sitting neatly in individual little boxes drawn on the floor with masking tape.

"Wook."

The secretary introduced me to my kindergarten class, and from there on my memory is vague and dreamy. I do remember riding the tricycle and racing around the track. I remember learning "Bubble gum, bubble gum" (and figuring out how to count cards people before they asked me, "How many pieces do you wish?"). I also remember a kid named Andy McSomething who called me by my kindergarten name up until middle school. We talked about basketball.

This blurry memory fast forwards itself to 13 years later. I remember a friend of mine in college, who invited his suitemate to a Christian club meeting. The suitemate lashed back and told him to stop trying to convert him. And that was the end of that. 1 Peter 4:16 I look back and I rejoice for my friend to the point my heart aches because I see the Father say, "Well done!"

Time tells the tale. I've been blessed with K-12 education and beyond x2. I'm done counting monetary greens. Now I'm being led to greener pastures. Life is moving quickly here and there's no time to even wish for diligence. Hard work comes to those who work hard. There may be trials now and they may only be training for more suffering to come, but Peter encourages me to lift my eyes from the footprints in the sand. He's got his eyes on something way beyond the horizon. Somewhere. Someone.

Rejoice in sharing in the sufferings of Christ. Rejoice. I do not lose hope for His joy is my strength. His joy is my joy. Again I say, rejoice.

Looking back at a seemingly linear flow of events transcended by what we call time, I'm beginning to see past the backdrop of tricycles, bubble gums, classrooms, and diplomas. There's another introduction to be made somewhere over the fence. And I wonder...

Perhaps joy comes when we simply step away from the frame and behold the Picture.